The Toy Is Out of the Box
by pixiegiggles
Summary: Outtake of FStop. AH/AU.


_A/N: This is set toward the end of the week that Sookie spends with EN. And, yes, for those of you wondering—the FStop is still alive and kicking. I'm hoping to get the next 'real' chapter done next week-ish. But no promises. Thanks for all your lurrrve & patience :)_

_A/N: Thanks to my lovely and super-talented betas, __**nycsnowbird**__ and __**Gallathea**__—you rock my EN plaid socks off! _

_Any mistakes remaining are purely my own._

_Disclaimer:__ As always, I do not own any rights to the characters in SVM or the HBO series True Blood. However, the original content and ideas are mine all mine._

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**THE TOY IS OUT OF THE BOX**

**An FStop Outtake**

I sat down on the bed, unwrapping the towel from around my head and trying my best to calm my wildly thumping fangirl heart as I bent upside down, squeezing the water out of my hair.

Even though I had spent the last week with EN, and I should have been used to hanging out with hot vamp stars, I just couldn't quite prepare myself for tonight. I was accompanying Eric to one of the biggest bashes in town—at least if you were a fan of the fang, or rather, the hotties who played them on the screen. We were going to the annual Fangasm party, a charity event that gave a few lucky fangirls—with deep pockets, that is—the opportunity to hang out with the stars from all the most sighed-after vamp shows and movies.

Of course EN and the rest of the Fiends cast would be there, including Bill and his newest love interest for the season, Edward. I actually felt kind of bad for Edward—he had made a terrible choice almost a decade ago, agreeing to play the lead in the movie adaptation of a popular teen vampire series. The tweens lusted after him, but, even now, all these years later, he was stuck being typecast as the dark and broody vampire.

So, I actually wasn't looking forward all that much to meeting him—he just didn't really do it for me, personally. But, I will admit, I was beyond excited to meet the stars of the new TV series, The Black Dagger Brotherhood. Those guys—every one of them was just … so … UNGHHH.

It was sure to be at least a ten-alarm panty-combuster, and I wasn't sure exactly how I would make it through the night with my own underfrillies intact. I righted myself and leaned back on the bed with a loud sigh, resting my palms behind me as I tried to steady myself. Hell, after days spent so close to the scorching hotness that was EN, I was already on the precipice. I needed something to take the edge off before tonight, or I could just not be responsible for my actions.

My eyes darted around the room, like a trapped animal searching for any possible exit, when I spotted the box. The Toibocks, to be exact.

My hoo-ha twitched, as if it knew relief was a mere few feet away. Actually, it was more like I was being bribed by the damn thing. It was a hootchie-matum: either give in now, or pay the price later.

Well, better safe than sorry, right? I glanced at the clock—still a good hour until EN was supposed to arrive to pick me up. Shrugging my shoulders, I gave in to my demanding nether regions and brought the box back to the bed, setting it beside me. Settling under the covers, I twisted around and opened it up. I gasped when I saw the picture that had been attached to the inside of it, as if by magic. Amelia-flavored magic, I was sure.

It was a photo manipulation of EN. It had to be. He was in what looked like a S.W.A.T.-type uniform, but the official-looking pin that was attached to the front of his jacket read "D.P.L.S." Dammit. I _so_ knew I should never have joked with her about my need for the Department of Panty Land Security when I was around EN. Evil, crafty little witch.

I eyed the hot pink toy, wondering if it really could be as magical as Amelia had assured me it was. Shrugging my shoulders, I picked it up. It was always good to try new things. But, as I reached to close the box, I noticed there was an envelope there. On it was scribbled, _Visual Aids, a porntastically swoonalicious part of your complete ENgasm. It's guaranteed to make you feel grrrrrrreat!_

I snorted, but quickly flipped the envelope over and opened it. Inside was a hand-picked selection of my favorite EN photographs. There were several of him in The Gray Suit, with various lengths of yummy scruff. There was one of him leaning against some sort of barn—lucky damn barn—sporting plaid, his jeans tucked into boots. But at the bottom of the pile was possibly my favorite photo ever taken of EN. It was from some Hollywood event; I wasn't sure which one, but he was wearing this pair of pink lycra pants that left absolutely _nothing_ to the imagination. And let me tell you, that boy was another check in the yes column of the proportionality theory. A ginormous, Viking-sized check.

I left that photo on top and set down the pile beside me before picking up the toy. I lowered the contraption to my screaming hoo-ha, and she proceeded to jump up and down and practically do a fist pump as soon as I flipped it on and the familiar vibrations began to fill me.

I laid back and adjusted the vibrator inside of me, letting my knees drop to the sides for easier access.

I began to hum to myself.

_You put the pink thing in …_

_You take the pink thing out …_

_You put the pink thing in …_

And then … oh, mama! And _then_! Then … then you shake _all_ about!

My whole body jerked and my eyes rolled back in my head when I moved the vibrating joystick and hit just the right spot.

I whimpered and moaned as I kept the delicious pressure right there—and started to wonder if all nursery rhymes were such thinly veiled lessons in sex.

Indeed, the Hokey-Pokey _was_ what it was all about.

I closed my eyes and surrendered myself to the amazing sensations. Soon, my fingers drifted to the easy-to-adjust wheel at the bottom to turn up the speed, and I was totally done for. I cried out in that delicious moment when everything went tense before it relaxed again. And in that split second—the doorbell rang.

~oOOOo~

"Sookie, everything okay in there?"

Right after I'd rung the doorbell, I heard a loud thud, like something heavy had fallen on the floor. I leaned in a little closer to the door to see if I could hear anything. I know, I sound like a total fucking perv, but really, I was just concerned. It was taking her a pretty long time to answer. I could hear some shuffling and muttering of what I could only assume were curses, though it was a bit too far away still to make out. "Sookie?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she yelled out. "I'll be right there."

A few minutes later, the door swung open to reveal a deliciously-disheveled Sookie. She was wrapped in a pink terry-cloth bathrobe—a much lighter pink than her flushed skin. Her hair was a glorious, wild, tumbled mess all around her. Like a love nest. One I'd like to nest in.

_Shit_. What the hell had she been doing? I could tell that she was still trying to catch her breath, her chest rising up and down a bit too noticeably. I arched an eyebrow as I tried to keep from staring at the cleavage that peeked out just a little bit more with the rise of each breath. "I hope I didn't miss all the fun."

And there it was. That hot as hell deep crimson blush. Damn, but she wore that shade well.

"Um, you're here kinda early." She clutched her bathrobe closed and gave me a knowing look.

Shit. Busted. Guess I was a little more obvious than I'd hoped.

She stepped aside, motioning for me to come in. I closed the door behind me and followed her to the kitchen, where she stood next to the sink, gulping down a very large glass of water—it practically swallowed her entire face, in fact.

_Working up a thirst, are we? I'll help you work up a thirst, anytime._

She met my gaze, her brows knit together. "What?"

I really fucking wanted to know what exactly she had been doing when I rang the bell, but I knew she wasn't likely to tell me if I asked again. Damn, sometimes I did think it would be convenient to be able to read minds. I shoved the thought out of my mind as I met her gaze with my best thousand watt smile. "Just wondering what you're going to wear to the party."

"Actually, I really don't know," she answered, her mouth curving into the most devious smirk. She tapped her chin and muttered, "I just have no clue what one wears to a vamp orgy."

I roared with laughter. When it subsided and I looked at her again, she inclined her head and studied me from behind a grin that was equal parts gleeful and predatory, with absolutely zero apology. "Uh … you've been to one of these before, right?"

I nodded, waggling my brows suggestively.

She snorted. "So … care to enlighten me, Eric?"

Was she actually asking me what I wanted her to wear? Was nothing an option? Probably not. "Well, last year, I wore a certain pink lycra outfit—but you've probably seen the photos." I paused, watching her blush deepen to the darkest shade I'd yet seen. Well, fuck. I guess she had seen those photos. Hmm, I didn't usually wear hot pink, or lycra—but it might just be worth digging up that old outfit.

I filed that little tidbit away as I shrugged out of my leather jacket. "But, this time, I just threw this old thing on." I thoroughly enjoyed the sight of her eyes widening as she ogled me up. I was wearing a pair of low-slung leather pants and a loose-yet-clingy gray see-through shirt.

She let out a half-moan half-growl from somewhere deep in her throat that I could swear sounded like "Yum."

I swallowed my own chuckle as I leaned forward, closer. "I'm sorry, Sookie. What was that?"

Her eyes—which had paused somewhere below the equator—snapped back to my face. "Oh! Nothing. I was just saying, wow. Yeah. That's … that sure is some outfit you got there."

"Are you alright, Sookie?" I stepped forward, placing the back of my hand to her cheek. "You seem a little … flushed."

She swallowed hard a couple of times, before turning to rinse her glass and place it in the sink. "Yeah, fine, fine. But, I don't think I have anything like that in my closet."

"Oh, I'm sure we can find something. Shall we take a look?" I said, motioning to the stairs leading up to the bedroom.

"Uh … sure. Why the heck not?" she muttered, before shrugging her shoulders and shuffling off toward the stairs.

I followed her into the walk-in closet and examined the options, opting for a basic black dress that looked fairly promising. I raised it in front of her body to test out my choice and nodded with approval. "This'll work."

She answered with a small nod of her own, and went to pick out some shoes. After a few minutes, she came back with what looked like a pair of thigh-high boots and a strappy pair of heels cradled in her arms. After she set them down on the floor she met my eyes and asked, "So, boots? Or fuck-me heels?"

I choked. I literally, fucking choked. I was actually worried for a moment that I might have swallowed my tongue. I recovered after what seemed like an eternity and placed the hanger the dress was hung on around her neck, so that it was draped in front of her. "I don't know. Let's see."

She had a smug smirk on her face when she placed a hand on my shoulder and leaned into me, raising one foot and slipping it into said fuck-me heel.

_And fuck. Me. Indeed._

She smelled entirely too yummy, and the way she pressed herself into me, I could feel every delicious little curve of her delectable body. She withdrew her hand and gave me a coy smile, before leaning down and wedging her other foot into the boot. Straightening up again, she faced the mirror and parted the robe, sticking out first one leg then the other.

She hoisted the robe up a bit, so we could examine both choices at once. We both looked in the mirror and then at each other.

"Boots," we said in unison, bursting into peals of laughter at our agreement.

After the laughter subsided, Sookie met my eyes in the mirror. "Hey, look," she said, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. "Our highlights _do_ match."

I grinned back at her, and winked. "They sure do, girlfriend."

I let my eyes trail down her body before meeting her eyes again with a smirk, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, still not going there," she placed a hand on her hip and shook her head.

Well, shit. I guess it was worth a try. When we'd gone to the salon earlier, and she'd agreed to go for the highlights, I might have inquired into the color of her … roots. Well, maybe the third time would be the charm, as they say.

"Oh, you will yield to me eventually, Sookie Stackhouse," I only half-teased, waggling my brows.

She snickered. "Um … okay, then. Well, I should get ready." She all but ran out of there, heading to the bathroom to get changed.

I walked out of the closet, looking for the best spot to sit and wait for her. The bed was looking like the best candidate, so I made my way over there and flopped down on it.

"What the—" I jumped up immediately as something sharp poked me.

I put my hands on the bed and felt around for the offending object. When I located it, I tossed the cover off to reveal the offending object which seemed to be a … jewelry box? WTF? I was about to pick it up, so I could move it over to the bedside table, but there were some papers sticking out of it, preventing it from closing.

I was going to open the box just enough to stuff the papers back in so I could close it, but when I took out the pile and saw what was in the box underneath—well, let's just say I had to sit down. Nestled inside, practically fucking grinning at me, was a vibrator in the prettiest shade of pink. Sookie blush-pink.

Well, well, well. It would seem I _had_ missed out on a whole bunch of fun.

I chuckled to myself as I looked through the photos that had been sticking out of the box, preventing it from closing, glancing toward the bathroom door occasionally to make sure I wouldn't be caught with my hand in the proverbial cookie jar. Or Nutella jar, whatever the case may be.

I quickly assessed my options. I guess I could have gone with the old 'leave it as you found it' routine. But what would be the fun in that? So instead, I placed the photos back in the box, making sure it closed tightly, relishing the images of a newly-satisfied and flustered Sookie, rushing around to tuck away all evidence of her one-on-one playtime.

By the time she stepped out of the bathroom, I had placed the box on top of the dresser—right in the center where it would be most noticeable, of course—and was stretched out on the bed with my hands crossed behind my head.

I sprung up to full attention (yeah, that would be me and my cock) at the sight of her. She was a vision. That dress hugged every delicious curve of her body, and those boots … well, what can I say? I'm a sucker for leather, and for boots. Put them together and I'm a fucking goner.

"Oh, don't get up on my account," she smirked, walking across the room to retrieve her purse, swaying her hips entirely too much for her own safety. Or mine.

"Wow."

She spun around, smiling. "Oh, I'm sorry … what was that, Eric?"

"I said, wow," I grinned back at her and threw in an eyebrow waggle. "I'll definitely need to keep the wolves at bay tonight."

She threw her head back and let out a throaty laughter. I felt my grin widen to cheek-splitting range.

Retrieving a tube of lip gloss from her purse, she turned to the dresser mirror but froze when she spotted the box that I'd placed there. Her hand flew to her mouth as her terror-stricken eyes met mine in the mirror.

She pointed an index finger at the box as if it was some horrific Chucky doll that had magically relocated itself. "How did _that_ get _there_?" She twisted her head back to glare at me.

"Oh, that? I found it on the bed," I shrugged innocently. "I figured you must have forgotten it there. Is that not where it goes?" I motioned to the dresser where I had placed the box.

"I … no! I mean … yes. I guess," she stammered, pushing it off to the farthest edge of the dresser. She studied me closely before turning away, busying herself with finding something in her purse.

"Sookie?"

Her head snapped back up. "Hmm?"

"May I ask … what is it that you keep in there?"

She spun around, hand on hip and eyes blazing. "What do you _think_ I keep in there?"

"Oh, well, it looks like a jewelry box," I said with award-winning mock-innocence. "But then, I was wondering … why would you keep a jewelry box in your bed?"

She pinked instantly. "I dunno … I guess I just forgot it there earlier, when … when I was looking for somethin'," she muttered.

_Looking for something, huh? Your G-spot, maybe?'Cause I would love to be your guide on that search and rescue mission._

I watched her slip an earring into each ear as I walked toward her. Stopping a mere inches from her, I leaned in and whispered, "So, did you find it?"

Her returning blush was all the answer I needed.

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_A/N: Soooo ... when I first wrote about the toibocks, I totally wasn't planning on torturing Sookie with it again. But, __**SamaraReads **__ponied up a more-than-adequate sum of moola to own me (for an amazing cause—the Support Stacie auction), and she asked me to have EN find Sookie's uh … secret pleasure chest. Guess the toy is out of the box._

_So, there you have it. Hope it was as fun for you as it has been for me and the girls—__**Samara**__, __**A-Redhead-thing**__,__** and Missus T**__—to plot it. Thanks Samara for your generosity!_

_Hope you all enjoyed some EN-flavored playtime :)_


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